The thought was burning in my head matching the beat of a tempered bass drum. Oh how he would pay, for the damage and hurt he has caused.

“Your wine is bitter and lacks the sweet glaze my wine contains,” he complains. 

I stood there with the most crooked and contorted face I could muster up. How dare he insult the same wine that has been in my family for generations. “Kill Fortunato, kill Fortunato!” My brain thunders to me as I toss and turn in my bed, but the wind sings me a sweet soft ballad saying,”keep him alive, keep him alive.” For I am torn within these two decisions, both very tempting and have reasoning. Maybe one chance just one more he deserves. As then I start to calm down and reconsidering my rash logic for murder, but as I start to calm down my brain does not. “Bitter, bitter!” It again shrills to me, slamming into my head being sure to announce its presence into my mind. My conscious is settled and the wind had happily stopped singing its sweet ballad to me. I will, I must do whats right. So here I am walking jogging even to find this so called admired man. There he goes strolling so calm and steadily on the street. Though as my speed increases so does my rage, burning inside of me like a newly lit fire.

So close, for I was almost devoured by death, and seeked out upon by rage. This monstrosity of a coachman not only delayed my fury, but my time to catch my oppressor. Just as the reign of  such cruelty to me was about to come to an end, an automobile screeching to a halt comes between my tranquility and vengeance. As of now, Fortunato is approaching a woman in all her beauty. Her corset fitting tightly, her dress ruffled at the bottom and filled with a numerous lined patterns at the top, her hair in all its honey blond complexion pinned up into a enticing pin wheel bun, her pink plump lips with cheeks as red as roses.

Than so rapidly the thought comes to my mind, to strike my opponent down where it hurts. To electrocute his wife, but she is not my oppressor no, he is. Why would I defy or even think to destroy such beauty? His wife did not feed my hunger for death instead she steadies it with all her natural aura of fairness. Aha atlas! A moment of brevity, this is why his entity must come to termination. For he is not just my oppressor but his brides. “Execute him!” The thought not only roaring in my mind, but in the wind, and in my heart and soul. The citizens on the street and the trees scream at me this very thing, to put him to damnation.

In this particular mindframe, I finally race across the walk, finding the perfect ending for such a villainous and deceitful man. Feeling this iron of power in my hand only fuels to me why I have the power to do this, and the will to not back out. “Fortunato, oh Fortunato!” I holler out, but as I go to find him he is no longer around. As my eyes wonder carefully analyzing everything it lays its eyes on, gazing in the spot where it thinks it sees the black long coat of evil. Though as my eyes do not find satisfaction neither does my curiosity as to where this man is. Therefor I walk to try and find him pacing steadily, beginning to turn corners sharply as my anxiety rises. Until I come to a sudden halt. He is there strutting in the park with such peace his arm linking with hers, their footsteps simultaneously making the same pitter patter. A cackle escapes his upturned cheeks, his eyes crinkled with such ferocity. All the while my lovely lady doing the same except a sweet melancholy escaping her lips, and just one corner of her eye squints to see me, standing there enraged. Waiting to rescue her from this brash beast. They continue to stride slowly, him enjoying her company while she is dreading his. Unto myself I scream, “save her, save her!”

Charging forward with such lividity, I release a cacophony of hurt, sorrow, pain, anger,remorse, and satisfaction. I hear the sudden crack of bone and the faint yelp of his voice once so loud and sure, now so low and hollow. When I go to claim “my” bride I see her laying down with tears in her eyes filled with joy, because of what I have successfully completed. When I turn around to see the hollow eyes of the dead man, I see him on his hind legs like a dog, crying. “Alive, he is Alive!” For how dare he survive the lash to his skull. Impossible! I witnessed the bone crack, heard the yell. Just as then I turn and see the red innocent blood flowing from my empty bride. Now one tear of pain and sudden shock  lays there still upon her cheek. Now I immediately turn hearing nothing but, a loud ringing surrounding my ear drums. Sound has returned to my ears as I hear such ruckus.

“Wha- wha, what have you done!?”, these abrupt screams come fumbling out of the mouth of the one that should be lifeless.